


Sin

by Macabre_Angel



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Depressed Nico di Angelo, Hurt Nico di Angelo, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized Homophobia, Nico di Angelo Needs a Hug, Nico di Angelo is Bad at Feelings, Nico di Angelo-centric, Poor Nico di Angelo, Post-The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson), Sad Nico di Angelo, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28136091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macabre_Angel/pseuds/Macabre_Angel
Summary: After the Battle of Manhattan, Nico haven't been accepted in the Camp. Now Percy is missing and he's trying to make everything right. The book he found in library few weeks prior gave him some idea where to start. If only reality wasn't so cruel.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Sin

“Homo sapiens. What a complicated species. Have you ever heard of Maslow's hierarchy of needs? Quite interesting issue. I read about it some time ago while I’ve been hiding in an old library in some small town in the middle of nowhere. “Hierarchy of Needs: A Theory of Human Motivation” was the book’s title if I remember correctly. I’ve always liked to read. It made me feel so alive. Invincible. When I was little, I used to read about great heroes, pirates, supernatural worlds. I felt like one of them then, like I could one day live in that happy foreign land. It gave me hope and purpose.”

“I’ve never been too popular. I don’t remember much about my time in Italy, but I know that mia famiglia had a rather bad opinion. I’ve never thought much about it though. I had Bianca and mammina, nonno and nonna. It was okay. I knew that some people didn’t want to sit next to us in church or they looked at us with a funny expression on their face. Mamma always held her chin up, she was proud and strong. I once heard my nonni talking about one of the incidents. They said it’s because my mamma has never been married. No one never saw our father either so people thought she had premarital sex. Not that anyone ever used the s- world then. That was a taboo so big it’s burned in my mind even after the Lethe. I still blush whenever I hear people use it. It still lives in me, just like the other teachings I received in the catholic school in Italy during the Fascist regime. I’ve never been racist, nor I felt like a “true catholic” nuns wanted me to become. I believe my young age saved me from that, as well as the horrific scenes still alive in my mind. I might be a monster, but I’m not inhuman enough to hate someone because of their skin colour or religion. But I think I get distracted. I’ve never been too popular as I said, but my books were all I needed back then. They sheltered me, gave me energy and helped me to keep my childlike innocence for such a long time. I’ve never been able to read fantasy or adventure book again after Bianca’s death, so I just keep reading scientific articles, historic books, even some biographies of people I’ve never heard about before. I think it’s out of boredom. Or loneliness.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve spent most of the last four years fighting for my life in one way or another. The first half a year was rather calm. I’ve been the only real danger to myself, really. Minos kept me relatively safe, helped me train and even now when I know about his not so pure intentions, I can’t bear myself to think really badly about him. He hadn’t been a nice companion in any way, but it’s not something I expected. He was harsh and didn’t care about pain I felt, mental or physical, but he needed me so I lived. It’s not like anyone would care about a monster like me. Even my father didn’t. I’ve been in an almost constant pain then, mostly self-inflicted. I felt nearly constant sorrow after Bianca’s death, sorrow that hasn’t left me even now, after so many years. Quite quickly I noticed that physical pain was distraction enough for me to keep me going. I started slashing my arms and tights open, in hope that with the blood, the whole mental pain is going to leave me too. It never did. Some time ago, I noticed it didn’t work for me anymore. The addicting feeling I’ve always felt after the activity left me. I’ve been restless ever since. I’ve had nightmares since Bianca’s death too, but they became much worst since I saw the memory of my mothers death. With it, the memories of my youth started coming back too. Without the distraction my books and loved ones gave me and with the better understanding my older self had, it was tortures. Its not something I even want to think about, much less to repeat every night in so realistic dreams.”

“Anyway, in the hierarchy of needs, rest is one of the basic needs, along with the food, water and warmth. I almost laughed when I read it. I haven’t had a good night rest in the last four years. I’ve been constantly cold – because of the blood lost and lack of the real shelter probably. Food and water was not something I had every day, sometimes not even every week – even during my time with Minos, money were hard for me to get. At first I refused to steal, but after almost a week of starving and drinking only a water from the washbowls in communal bathrooms, I cracked. I’ve been feeling bad after doing it for a very long time, but after some time, I just accepted it. It’s just a subsequent aspect of pathetic existence of Nico di Angelo. After reading the book, I started asking myself it it’s even worth anything. I had thoughts like that before, about digging the old pocket knife a little bit deeper, letting myself blood out on the cold concrete in the filthy alleyway. I always blocked the thoughts tho. I felt that maybe, maybe there is a way I don’t see now. I thought that I managed. I’ve been alive, I fought, I even helped. I still had hope. When I first realised how shitty I’m managing in reality, I wanted to help myself. I wanted to stop being such a fuck up. Maybe, maybe then someone, anyone, will stay. Maybe if I weren’t such a needy baby, Bianca wouldn’t left. Maybe if I managed better for the past years, I would been accepted in the Camp after the war ended. I knew I had a cabin now. I didn’t even stay long enough to decorate it. People flinched at the sight of me. They tried to keep their distance and I knew they were too afraid of me. I knew that my appearance didn’t help. I look like a dead men myself, too pale and to skinny to be alive. Sometimes I wandered what kind of dark powers were keeping me alive. Was that son of Hades’ ability? Being able to exist between life and death?”

“One day I tried to look up the concept called psychology. I’ve never read anything beyond the Maslow’s book on the subject and I thought that maybe there is an answer for the insanity in my head. I flinched violently when the first book I found was the “Textbook about the homosexuality and mental health”. I never read it and I left the warmth of public library as fast as possible upon my finding. I could feel the pain which busted in my chest and the tears in my eyes. I was too afraid to read the book because I knew what I will find. Homosexuality. I knew that world. It was a known disease even in my times. I heard people whispering about my neighbours, Antonio and Francesco. They were men in their late twenties, never married and they lived together in small apartment. At first no one cared, they were nice and handsome, some mothers even introduced their daughters to them in hopes of marriage. The men were never interested. After some time the rumours about theirs misbecoming closeness started. They were sent to be treated in the train with the pink badges on their arms. Separately. When I had found out what the possible treatment was, I was nauseous. I never read another book about the World War II. I was just relived that Mussolini lost. But I knew that disease, that sin. When I realized that, some more things became clear to me. As I said before, I’ve never felt like a true catholic. But I did remember about the punishment for the sins, something I’ve always believed to be true. My feelings towards Percy, they were the reason of the whole suffering. The reason Bianca’s dead. The disgust people felt towards me, my inability to even try to satisfy my basic needs, it was the punishment sent on me for the unspeakable thoughts of loving and being loved by another boy. I felt almost content with myself when I realized that. But it didn’t last long. I knew I would never have Bianca back and that the part of the pain I feel will never leave me. Realization that I’ve been the reason of her death in every possible way was what crushed me. I knew already that she left because I’ve been too overwhelming. I also knew that if not for my obsession with mythomagic, the danger would never come and she might be alive now. But realization that the reason of the prophecy being told, of the Fates penalty was mine sin was too heart-breaking. My disgusting existence cost my sister her life. Probably my mother too. Maybe it effected other people as well? The thought of it charming Percy was just another kick in a teeth. Was I the reason he went missing? Did I destroyed the happiness of the normal, good couple? The questions find me standing here, on the edge of Styx River. I’m not planning to make myself invincible. I no longer hold the romantic beliefs I had as a child. I’m going to destroy my soul permanently. I hope that would be enough to stop the punishment for my sins. 

To whom it may concern. 

I’m sorry.”

Nico screwed the letter and put it in the pocket of his jeans. It’s not like anyone is going to read it. He just wrote it to calm his mind before the final act. He relaxed and closed his eyes, hoping it was the final end of the pain too.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I wrote it in the surge of depression. I tried to transfer some of my emotion but I think it just end up being extremely emotionless. Well, I hope you liked it xx


End file.
